Half Blind
by Prose Vanity
Summary: Stakes are higher, time is running out, and lives are cut short. The first Alice war was never really over, it was just getting started. Love and peace are postponed for danger, but nothing, absolutely nothing, can keep him away from her - not even death.
1. Prologue

**Ashy-note** Dark. Drama. Angst. Sadness. Overwhelming fears.

You have been warned.

* * *

**A Leap in the Dark**

P r o l o g u e

Underneath the shy light of the moon they stood, the breeze humming a lifeless melody that did nothing to cool his nerves. Even his fire, ablaze all around them, had no power against the accursed stony feeling that lodged itself firmly in his chest. The only heat he felt was from his eyes, red and burning with the threat of tears. But he wouldn't cry—of course he wouldn't. He was the black cat. Crying only meant weakness. Weakness only meant nothing.

Somehow he felt he was convincing himself who he was, because he was losing it.

The silence engulfing them nearly tore his sanity apart. The stillness of the night sashayed his willpower to and fro, his ambivalence taking over his perfect Alice control. His fire danced to the music of the turmoil of emotions inside him, the flames licking everything around them to ashes, touching everything except her.

The girl who stood in front of him had to be someone else. His every logic fought against the idea that she was _his_.

There was no way these things were happening.

Footsteps broke the silence that menaced his good sense—he raised his eyes and saw her walking away—

—Another blow to his crippled heart.

He kicked his pride aside and tried to speak; forcing out the few words he could muster felt like shoving shards of glass down his throat.

"_Don't_—" he began, his words breaking, "—do this to me."

He watched as she froze, unable to come up with words to say to him. Shuddering slightly, he stared, still and silent, as she put one foot ahead of the other and made a beeline for the trees ahead that led to the clearing of the forest.

* * *

She had half a mind to turn around and kiss him, embrace him, and _feel_ him for the last time before she left for good and almost slipped.

She had to do this. Fighting could be an alternative, but it was no use—because in reality there were no other options.

This painful closure _had_ to be the only way.

And each second it took only dug the knife deeper into both their chests.

His voice was like a drug to her, tearing her away from the realms of sense and reason. It made her crazy hearing his voice so terribly pained.

By _her_.

"_Please_. Stop it."

The tone of his voice— so uncharacteristically unlike him— sent tremors of anguish down her ice-cold spine. He was _pleading_, begging her to stay, asking her to stop, asking her to turn around, to face him, and tell him she'll stay and that everything wasn't true.

It was all so obvious—he'd never been this vulnerable before. _Never_. Not even when he confessed to her, not even when she left them, not even after the Alice wars.

He was giving up everything just to make her stay.

But she couldn't. And even if she could, she would never.

The stakes she was playing at were too high. It was this or him—and she'd rather endure ages of anger and loneliness rather than the loss of the one thing she held closest to her heart. It was selfish, she knew it was, but this selfishness had too much potential for something good in the future.

Better this than him.

"Mikan. _Please_."

Her fists clenched. Tears began to well up, and she gathered all her strength, using it extensively to the point that it exhausted her, to keep up with this ridiculous lie of her own making.

"No."

The words were like ice daggers to her. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice steady and plowed on with the speech she had memorized and practiced for thousands of times already. They were perfect during rehearsals—this was no time to make mistakes. "I won't stay for you. Not anymore. I'm sick and tired of you - of them. I'm leaving, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

And as if that wasn't enough, she plowed on, burying the knife deeper and deeper, carving out her heart and his. "I've had _enough_."

She had anticipated his response, but hearing it straight from his lips at that exact moment, hearing it coming from him, struck the final blow to her every cover.

"I love you."

She felt his eyes on the back of her neck, and she all but ran back to him, all but turned around to face him.

Her eyes were still closed. She had anticipated _her _response to these exact words, too. And they were torture to her.

_I love you, too, you know that. Please don't believe what I'm going to say next. Please, understand. I need you to not believe the next few words I'm going to say to you…Kami, please…_

Her throat seemed blocked. She swallowed hard and compelled herself to blurt out the words that dealt him the finality of their rendezvous, hoping against hope she does it right and that she makes believable enough.

Everyone knew she was a terrible liar, and even she knew that to some extent, but never would she have known she would have this kind of ability to lie with a straight face to the one person she considered her life and her everything.

She never knew she had it in her to lie so good.

"I _don't_. And I _never_ did."

She bit back her lips at the heinous crime she had said, disgusted with herself. She struggled to maintain her composure, fearing she might slip and fail—because she can't fail, she _can't_.

She just _fucking _can't.

The price was too much for her to pay.

"Mikan. Don't do this to me, don't leave - _don't_. Just…please… _Don't_."

She took a deep breath, her mask nearly cracking open, and without any second thoughts she bent her legs to jump up into the trees, but not before sighing to the wind the words "_I'm sorry._"

She activated her tracking Alice on him and left with her world in pieces, her heart as fine as powdered saw dust.

A bitter smile showed itself on her face as she went about her way towards _that _man. A similarly bitter thought was imbibed in her mind.

_Funny. _She always she saw _him _leaving _her_, and not the other way around.

* * *

_I've already finished writing this one ages ago, so it won't get in the way of updates. Although I plan on dragging this out a bit._

_~Ashley._


	2. Returns

**Two  
**R e t u r n

* * *

Her disappearance left such a cataclysmic effect on the academy, more so on all of her friends, worse even to Natsume.

But _she, _however, seemed to have taken it farther and deeper than Natsume ever had.

Hotaru Imai was never the same since she left three years ago. Now at nineteen she had changed a great deal, proving to be more than just brains and an incredibly greedy inventor.

She was at her headquarters, at the tower overlooking the entire Alice Academy, busy tinkering with her latest invention when she heard the unmistakable, loud creaking of heavy metals being forced apart. Instinctively she knew it was the Alice gates being opened, and as such phenomenon was highly unusual, the inventor grew curious.

Taking out her trusty Giraffe telescope, she peered into it and set her view to the north, where the gates were. She saw a black limousine enter the gates, presumably headed towards the main office, judging by the path it took. All the more so, the amethyst orbs — which have been lacking the certain spark for three years now — shone and the yearning to find out what's going on intensified.

"Zooming, fifty times," she mumbled to the telescope, still eyeing the car which was now close to the building. As the lens zoomed even closer, she saw the doors open, and with a leap of her heart, she saw familiar, long brunette hair climb out the car.

With all sense of familiarity she breathed out a name and put down her telescope. Her heart was pumping - throbbing, even - and she did something she never did in three whole years: she took her scooter, left her tower, and re-entered Alice Academy's student population.

_You're back. You are finally back._

_-/-_

To the north, close to the Alice gates, a young boy received the same news as to that of which the inventor just found out about.

The eagle, his eagle, Tohru, came to him, landing far too excitedly than what he was used to see from the huge bird. As was his custom, he took a treat from his pocket and fed the bird, all the while stroking its beautiful brown-red-grey feathers.

Suddenly, the bird spoke to him. "She's back."

His blue eyes suddenly widened, and reading the memory of his eagle, found that what the bird was saying was true. In his mind's eye he saw from Tohru's point of view, saw how he saw her get out of the car and enter the premises of the Administration building, saw her face.

Saw her brown eyes, her chocolate hair, her tall figure.

_The wait is over_, he thought to himself, and like the inventor, he did something he hasn't done in quite a while; in two and a half years, to be quite exact.

-/-

After three years it hasn't been easy for him.

Nothing _ever_ was, anyway, but her presence somehow made things easier to bear. Even his darkness, one with which he was well-acquainted and was perfectly at ease in, suddenly became nothing more than a shade of gray rather than impenetrable blackness.

Now, however, that black veil intensified tenfold, and he had to find ways to distract himself just so the crushing gloom would not get to him.

And that wasn't any easier.

Every time he felt the nostalgia settling in he ran off to find Persona, asking for missions, anything, preferring the worst ones, looking forward to the small moments when he had the right to lash out his bottled anger at somebody, able to blame somebody for the crippling pain the stunned him to infinitesimal depths, letting him channel out his emotions through the triumph of seeing life leave the eyes of his unfortunate targets.

This was night after night after night.

And night after night the darkness spewed out tremendous amounts of memories which he shut and locked away to the bowels of his brain. The moonlight rarely shone inside his room, and he was really barely even there, but the rare moments when both circumstances happen to find an impasse, he felt a sickening urge to claw out his insides and tear away the sickening urge to find her and kiss her—he'd always associated her with the brilliance that the moon exuded during times when the Earth's main source of light, the Sun, left the planet to wallow in the dimness caused by her absence. It always reminded him of how _she_ came to him, of what she did to him.

It wasn't easy, those past three years.

They were torture. They were a cause for slow deaths to him.

Because he himself knew that nothing would be easy when she's gone—but still the fact remained crystal clear.

It was so much easier when she was here.

"Natsume."

His musings were interrupted quite unexpectedly; so absorbed was he in his thought that he barely sensed his best friend's presence. He was headed to a secluded giant oak in the midst of the forest, but he froze on his way up the tree.

This was the first time he heard Ruka say his name again, ever since the argument that they had two and a half years ago, just shortly after she left.

Now, however, the heart which he believed would be condemned forever to rot away inside his rib cage lightened up considerably at the sound of his voice. Not enough, but it would have to do.

He had to play his part, though. He had to be cold and uncaring. Ruka was another reminder of her.

"What now, Nogi?"

"I'm sorry."

The rabbit came hopping at his feet, ears all up and bright and happy. Somehow he envied the animal. Maybe Imai does have some sort of insane reason for why she always made animals the theme of her inventions. They were just so careless, so happy.

Unlike him, drowning in memories.

He picked it up. It didn't object.

He turned around, clutching the rabbit to his chest.

His anger dissolved at once when he saw his best friend smiling. "Shut up about the sorrys, Ruka," he said. His voice was devoid of the coldness that it held for three long years.

Ruka couldn't help himself and he smiled back.

"It's nice to be back, Nogi," he said calmly, climbing up to the topmost branch of the tree. Ruka remained where he was, at the bottom.

The moment he was resting comfortably on one of the highest branches, however, he heard Ruka say the two words he'd been waiting, hoping to hear since that night when she left.

Somehow, though, even though he'd been praying for it for so long now, he still hadn't anticipated the reaction his body would make. His heart beat sped up, his body felt hotter and lighter than usual, and his eyes, so long bored by what he saw everyday, suddenly flared, and for a moment he acted stupidly and looked around, as if expecting to see a signpost somewhere that could lead him to where she was, because what Ruka had said could practically change everything right now, especially him.

It would lift a terribly heavy weight out of his shoulders.

But to _hope_…when one has had so little to hope for in years…

Could it really be?

He had to know.

Quickly, with renewed force, he jumped off the branch and sped to the Administration building. Unbeknownst to him, two more people were right behind him, speeding along the same path, with the same thought in mind.

_She's back.

* * *

_

_A little depressing to write about, but I think I'll do good with this one. Thanks to the only two reviewers! :D_

_~Ashleeeeey_


	3. Venom

**Ashy-note **I wonder how all of you would take this story. And I'm thankful for those who say they'll spread the news about this fic - really appreciate the effort. (:

Sad and dark and depressing chapter, have to say.

-/-

**Three  
**V e n o m

* * *

The night was cold, the wind unrelentingly lashing out its fury of winter blows; all around her was a mess.

She fixed her mask, which threatened to fall out of her face, and the hands that lifted it were caked with blood. She laughed sourly at the morbid sight of crimson that dripped down to her wrist and winced at the sudden pain that the wind stabbed right into her chest wound. Even her white shirt was a mess.

Hah, she _herself_ was a bloody mess.

It only took her a second to breathe before her prey snagged at her throat and she found herself pinned to the wall crawling with insects, reeking faintly of cockroaches and stale urine. The wind blew harder and colder, but the strength that came out of the arms of the one who grabbed her never wavered.

It was the moment of truth, the part where it all ends in death.

She took a deep breath and surrendered, feigning lifelessness, to the hands that were slowly crushing her neck.

If he looked closer he would've seen her eyes sharpen and glint in the faint light of the moon that meant only one thing: the child has become the butterfly.

The moon suddenly disappeared behind a canopy of clouds, further engulfing them in dense darkness, as if it didn't want to see the bloodshed that was bound to happen in sheer minutes.

Through the small slits of her mask she glared at the man holding her neck threateningly. His black eyes were rocks that showed no mercy, his silvery hair striking against the darkness that the night had thrown over them as a veil. She saw the gold tooth when he smiled spitefully at her, saw the ring slung casually around his neck through a golden chain, saw the marks of a bad burn on the arm that was crushing her to the concrete…

Vaguely she thought of the possibility that it was _his_ fire that caused the hideous wound.

She felt the fingers digging deep into the flesh underneath the stretch of fabric that was all that stood between her and death. Unmoving, she played the part of the actress, pretending that she had given up and completely capitulated to the killer…

In truth she waited tolerantly for that one moment of weakness.

_Patience_, she thought carefully to herself, _for the moment when the enemy starts to show weaknesses…_

Despite the sudden change of position, from her being predator to prey, she remained still and quiet and the serenity that enveloped her was, to anyone else, astonishing and admirable.

They had been dancing to the melody of death quite long enough, even she knew that. It had been hours of relentless and unyielding ducks and attacks thrown back and forth. She wasn't surprised to see the defiant look in her opponent's eyes, but she wasn't expecting to find just that. She was looking for the one entry, the one opening, which could well end this dangerous game play.

She just looked and looked and _looked…_ and then found the cracks when the man smiled, and she had to control herself from doing exactly the same.

_There it is_.

The moment she had waited for has arrived. That small moment of weakness, where the predator stops to admire his handiwork, stops for self-indulgence at the thought of his having successfully cornered what will soon be his kill.

_Time to kill._

She raised her hands in front of the enemy's face and watched as silent pleasure enveloped her senses at the look of surprise and fear that caged the man in place. The fear grew more and more pronounced as she watched carefully the fire embrace her arms, swaying alarmingly fast in tune with the strong wind that blew all around them…

His eyes widened and she moved in. In one fast movement, it was over, and she jumped high above a branch, away from the place where his eyes drifted to a close, thinking for the last time _why_ she closed her eyes when she slammed her hand and dug her long-nailed fingers against his throat and released a vicious stream of fire that let out a tumultuous roar of fury and vindicated satisfaction.

_The Butterfly… Kuro Neko…_

The perfect killing spree. The Academy had the upper hand.

His heart lurched and he coughed out blood before his eyes tightened and drew to a close, succumbing to the arms of death himself.

Before it had happened, though, she was already miles away.

She never had it in her to watch the light fade away from her victim's eyes.

* * *

It used to feel odd to her, but with the years she'd learned to live with it.

She sensed him before she saw him—but hadn't she always?

Now she fully understood how Natsume constantly seemed to know Persona was there; it wasn't hard at all, she realized a while back, not when you're so full of hate for the face that does little for your sanity.

But she was too tired for a tirade of endless praises and insults; she needed to rest, and whatever business he had in her room was not welcomed at all. She hadn't even washed her hands free of the blood that was starting to smell and make her dizzy. "Go away."

"Now, now, little kitty," the voice said in an annoyingly gloating voice. "You did just fine. I only wanted to tell you that. Nothing against my perfect Natsume, of course, but you'll have to do."

The sound of his name coming from the _bastard's_ lips was enough to ignite her shortened temper. This, fused with the burning desire to sleep and the trauma of the murder she'd just committed moments ago, fired up her animal instincts and she jumped straight into the man who stood lankly by her balcony, back to the glorious light of the moon.

He laughed grimly at the girl holding an ice dagger to his throat. "Lost your temper, _Butterfly? _Would you _dare_, I wonder?"

Fury pounded her veins and her throat constricted with the anger that welled up inside her like magma in a volcano. Her eyes blurred and lost focus and the wind that slashed Persona's cheek served as an answer to his challenge.

She watched the droplets of blood that oozed from the cut in his cheek, watched as the stupid little drops of crimson raced against each other to see who reaches the end of his fair face first.

Her cheeks met the strong, hard hands that ripped across the air to slap her face away from him.

She cursed the moon for suddenly bathing them in a darkness that was enemy to her and ally to her enemy. _Coward_, she mused. Her only source of light betrayed her for fear; the stupid satellite hid behind clouds again.

"You little cheeky _bitch_," the voice resonated through the dark that suddenly drowned her. She felt another hard slap, but she was better prepared; she heard it through the air and blocked it before it even slammed against her skin again; she's had enough.

She grabbed the hand and slowly, marks began cutting through Persona's skin, blazing red, which meant she had killed the Alice of Death itself for the time being. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me like that again," she muttered under her breath. The curse slowly made its way up to his neck, bit by bit swallowing his pale, masked face.

She turned away and walked back into her room, slamming the doors of her balcony shut in his face.

After a silence broken only by the fizzing sounds made by the marks that swerved and carved itself all over its target, the man found himself completely enveloped with the spinning black marks and cursed the girl.

At least his Kuro Neko was a bit more obedient… which, now that he has come to think of it, was rather boring.

The cold wrath on his face was warped with demented joy at his newfound plaything. He never thought his Butterfly would be so much more fun and fiery.

He'd have wanted to play with her then and there, but as his Alice was rendered completely useless, he'd have no choice but to take a sick leave and send _him_ instead.

He snorted. Him, the infamous DA Class Adviser, taking a sick leave…

There was so much more to this girl than he had ever thought.

So, _so_, much more.

* * *

It must have been saving grace that kept her from jumping and tearing the man in front of her to pieces.

If there was anybody worse the Persona, it would have to be _him_.

Uno.

The greatest bastard she has ever known.

"Well, well, well," he sneered, leering at the young brunette as she walked towards him. They were somewhere in the secluded part of the forest, the surroundings so dark that sunlight hardly peered through the thick canopy of leaves and the trees so close together it was hard to see beyond the first few meters. Her brunette hair swayed along to her brisk walk towards the man in a coat so dark it almost camouflaged.

Her lips twitched and a growl escaped her throat despite all attempts to be deceitful and uncaring.

The man sniggered.

"A little braver now, I see," he commented. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently on the moss-covered ground. "I couldn't believe you did that to Rei-san, but when he called in this morning to say he was having a sick leave, I didn't believe it until I saw those curse marks you had made."

These pointless word games were making her _sick_. "What do you want?"

He sneered, his yellow eyes eerie against the shadows cast by the trees overhead. _Outside_, she mused, _would have to be a brilliant morning. I think I'll go swimming later…_ She almost smiled.

Because even though she was doing things she never thought she'd be able to do, she was still her, Mikan Sakura, the annoying, naïve, foolish, and childish girl. Only a little less stupid.

"Are you okay, Butterfly? Or should I say… _Ko Neko?_"

She grated her teeth and again, with a more toxic tone than the last, stated her impatient question.

"I heard you the first time," the man replied after she had asked, still leering. When it became clear to him that she was not playing their usual game of taunt-and-duel, he sighed. "You're getting boring. I brought you back because the Uppers were having a spot of trouble with your friends."

At the mention of the word _friends_ her aura visibly changed from hate to concern. She had to reel in herself, such a display of affection could turn into something else, and those years with Uno taught her to be careful with her emotions around him. He was such a dangerous enemy to her. "Why?" Her voice was repressive, careful, as wary as she could possibly muster. "What happened to them?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked her in the eye.

A great intake of breath, and she knew.

"Run off to class, now, Little Missy," Uno said in a cheerfully spiteful tone. He knew she'd been reading his mind all along. Well, it was better seen than said anyway. At least she gets the magnitude of the problem.

He saw a hurt look cross her face then leave in a flurry of the wind. He snickered. Oh, how he loved toying with a vulnerable killer.

When he began to leave, he looked back for a final strike at her.

"Oh, and by the way, I'll be entering class soon, so do prepare and have a sweet disposition towards me, won't you, _Neko_-chan?"

She growled at the nickname and glared at him, a glimmering ice dagger at hand. He only laughed.

"Little tyke's getting braver, really, I'm very impressed, Mimi," he said mockingly as another sharp sound ripped from her clenched teeth. With that final note and one last laugh, he left in a wisp of smoke, leaving her alone in the dark forest clearing. Heaving a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and teleported to her dorm to get ready for the day.

* * *

Stealing away one last glance at the deserted corridor, she sucked in a deep breath and closed all Alice portals. She'd been doing this since two years ago, when Uno had to train her physically; she learned that she could stop all Alices from pouring out of her, leaving only her Nullification Alice on. She preferred it that way, especially now, as she was about to enter class again after three years of disappearance.

She didn't think she could bear to hear the accusing thoughts of her classmates, or handle the weight of their stares, the huge amount of feelings they were bound to let loose upon seeing her again. And worse, she didn't think she would ever be able to handle seeing _him_ again, after three years of solitude when she left him to his own devices, to bleed and to have to stem the flow of blood and pain from his heart's wounds, disheartened and alone… quite alone.

Heaving a deep, calming breath which did nothing to her raging nerves, she opened the door and stepped into the class just as the teacher's introduction came to an end.

"…our returning student, Miss Mikan Sakura."

The collective gasp she heard was expected.

What she didn't expect, however, were three sets of eyes that ogled at her as if in a dream, and that among these three eyes, crimson and violet were nowhere to be found.

Yuu, Ruka, Koko…

_Natsume? Hotaru?_

She almost crumbled right where she stood, looking lost while looking for the two people who were her salvation. That night she cried herself to sleep, repeating to herself a question which lulled her to drowsiness.

_What have I done?_

* * *

The news that Mikan Sakura had returned to class spread like wildfire all over the academy. Naturally it didn't miss Hotaru Imai's ears.

The next day after the Nullifier's return, Class B had to endure two more surprises.

One was the reappearance of Hotaru Imai, the other the return of the fire caster… both of which she resolutely ignored.

It was hard, having to remember what she did to them… now as she lay in bed, the sun slowly setting as she could witness from her window, she let the tears flow out.

Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was the urgent need to keep her head in the game and not lose control of the situation she was in, but she was unable to control herself and she _hated_ feeling the vulnerability that she had not anticipated when she saw her best friend and _his_ face…

She recalled with striking clarity the events that took place that morning… every word exchanged, every look on their face…

When Hotaru came to her that morning, dragging along her trolley bag full of inventions and gadgets and the ever-so-trusty baka gun, her heart leapt with joy and she had to control herself from smiling and running to her best friend's arms to hug her. She only stared at her, marveling at the changes: she had let her hair grow past her shoulders already, and the manic gleam in her violet eyes were like freshly-dug gold…they were sparkling as if they haven't done so in years.

She _missed_ her so much it was such a difficulty for her to contain the explosion of joy that took place within her after seeing one of the people her heart has yearned for in years.

But she had a part to play, a role to perform as flawlessly as possible. And that role tore the soul out of her, because it was _harsh. Heartless. _Ruthless.

So when Hotaru came to sit on the chair behind her she trained her eyes on the book that lay open in front of her and cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

Hotaru looked up from her trolley, and so did the class. It was the first time she spoke since her arrival yesterday.

"Yes?" she heard her reply. She did not so much as look up from her Anatomy book, because she would break the moment she looked at those violet pools.

Mustering every cold cell in her body she spoke again. "That chair is reserved only for me. No one takes it."

For a short second that she stole a glance at the inventor she saw a look of surprise which she covered up smartly replying with cold, sneering indifference, "Oh. Sorry then, _Miss_."

And had Hotaru looked properly, she would have seen her wince at those words.

She knew, though, that this was nothing. _Nothing_ compared to the wrath of the fire caster that she knew she would have to endure later.

A little sooner than she had anticipated.

* * *

It had been three days. Three days of cold treatment from the Nullifier, three days of a shocking succession of events that robbed the Academy's students of their every breath. Hotaru's return. Natsume's return. Mikan's return.

So many things were happening at once.

Ruka had always anticipated a happy reunion. He never thought things would be this different. He knew some things would change once she's back, but he never thought it would be this great.

Even Usagi had feared the brunette.

Natsume barely spoke to her since her return, and neither did she do anything to acknowledge his presence, too. It was like they were smoke to each other; they ignore and ignore and just keep long stretches of silences between themselves that everyone, him included, were driven close to insanity at the tension that filled the room whenever both were around.

He knew Natsume was hurt beyond recognition, that he was scarred by her so deeply it was almost inhumane, but this kind of reaction he deemed unnecessary and inappropriate.

Everyone else was coming back, everything else was settling in their proper places.

He was _supposed_ to be glad, but how come he was uneasy? The cold Mikan was one thing, but he somehow thought it would be like that in the end. He'd known enough of the world to predict _that_ kind of reaction. But he was feeling something else…

Something was terribly wrong with Mikan. And no, he didn't think it was just her sudden arctic disposition that changed. A dreadful idea had settled within him, one he had refused to entertain ever since its surfacing three years ago.

He had a strange, eerie feeling it had something to do with the dissolution of the Dangerous Abilities class, days after she had left them without a word.

He mentally made a note to ask Imai about this. There has to be something that could reawaken the mind reader.

It was now that they needed Koko more than ever.

* * *

Midnight was always her escape. She found solace in the stillness of the surroundings, found a scary kind of peace in the way the breeze blew carelessly around her, and she needed to get away from the countless stares she got during daylight.

For some reason, as she wandered aimlessly around the academy, she found her feet dragging herself towards the looming sakura tree up ahead, the venue where innumerable kisses and hugs and exchanges of vows held place… the spot where she drew strength from him and he from her, the place where everything was insignificant to them…

Dimly she wondered if he still hung around there at this time of night, holding a manga, with a lamp hung right above his head from one of the branches to give him light as he read those weird, gory graphics.

She smiled, a breath of fresh air to her nonchalant expression for the past few days.

She just didn't _like_ the feeling of a poker face… smiling always felt better to her.

She stopped walking and looked at the trunk of the tree when she had reached it after sauntering towards it in a dreamlike state, recounting all the moments she had spent with him there…

_It had been three years…_

* * *

It had been the same since years and years ago, ever since his missions had stopped… he'd go to the tree, with a lamp and a manga in hand, and then just stay there until sunrise only to rush off to her room and wake her up with a kiss to the forehead.

Admittedly the habit began even before she left, but it strengthened after she did, only a little less fulfilling without a forehead of brown hair to kiss.

He needed proof that she existed and once loved him—the tree gave him all he needed and more, because he couldn't take the weight of her last words. It was unbelievable to him; his heart repelled it, like magnets of equal poles. And even if he let his logic take over and leave all biases behind, it still felt _forced_ to him. She was always a bad liar, but those words… he had half a mind to believe it, but some part of him told him it was a lie.

He didn't want to hope, but of course, years of staying with her and enduring her whims eventually rub off, and he ended up hoping despite all his efforts of not doing so.

When he saw her, the day after her return, the idea of her last words being lies intensified. He knew her more than she gave him credit for. He knew she was keeping up some sort of a liar's game, a stupid charade, which fooled all but him. He questioned these actions… partly because he was hoping and partly because his instincts were nagging at him.

But it was there. Because he needed her with such ferociousness that it was almost impossible to go on without her.

* * *

She stood underneath the shade of tree, hidden from the bright stare of the moon, and laughed slightly at the _NxM_ imbibed in the trunk of the tree.

"So cliché," she mumbled, tracing the carved-out letters with a finger.

She felt eyes on her, and she didn't need to look up to know who it was, but she did.

She looked up to see crimson eyes looking down on her, a subdued lamp dangling above his head, one hand holding a manga.

_Never changed_, she mused, a small smile gracing her face.

They just stared at each other until she had the sense to look down, neck aching from having to look up at him. She heard him climb down and stand in front of her.

"You're back."

That whisper sent tremors of familiarity down her cold spine, his breath against her nape warmed her to the core, reaching the shield she had made for herself to prevent the bubbly personality from coming out.

She could almost feel the meltdown inside her at the sound of his voice.

She turned around and faced him, looking him full on the eyes, and in no time his lips were crashing against hers.

All the venom in her system had dissolved, only to be replaced by passion and longing and a certain sense of completion, as his lips molded over hers in such perfection that it was so hard to deny the pain and loneliness that she's been denying for years and year now…

_I missed you_.

And he felt that in her kisses.

Somehow, everything felt right.

* * *

From the distance, however, a dark figure stared at the couple and smiled darkly. _The Butterfly and the Black Cat, huh?_

Uno left without a single word and planned the day ahead.

It was bound to get interesting, then. It was like in books and movies. Love, fate, destiny, friendship, loyalty… all entwined with danger.

_Perfect._

* * *

I wonder how you guys really think about this fic...

_~Ash._


	4. Awakened

**Ashy-note** Might be my last update for now. Don't be fooled, guys. It won't make it that easy for their happy ending to arrive. It was nothing but a dream. Everything was a dream, except for the part where her POV was cut short to give way for Natsume's thoughts. Those thoughts were real.

Everything in this chapter is so vague I almost argued with myself if I should post this or not, but in the end I decided to do it anyway. Next chapters will be a lot clearer. Promise. (:

The Alice she had in Chapter 3 were Alices she had stolen and re-ordained (I'll explain Alice Ordination in another chapter; yep, it's an original plot factor I created) and then inserted to herself, under Persona's orders.

If there are any suggestions or flames or hate messages, please, feel free. Don't worry; I'm open-minded and _severely_ masochistic. :D

-/-  
**Four  
**A w a k e n e d

* * *

She sat up in bed so quick she shocked her spine and felt a strong surge of electric impulse down her back that hurt a lot, but there was a different kind of pain that spurred her deepest, long-buried feelings.

It was the fact that her dream, her _own_ dream, the place that was supposed to be her harbor of safe thoughts, of happy feelings and endings, became the reserve of all the horrors she had to meet.

_The dream…_

It had been so real… so, _so_ real…

His scent, the way his breath felt against her cool skin, the surroundings, the whipping of the air around their face as they gasped for breath during the seconds that they had to break free from each other just so they could _breathe…_

_Everything felt so real…_

The kiss, the scene, _everything_.

Even Uno.

She never thought there would come the day when she'd love to wallow in dreams instead of realities.

It was harsh.

* * *

The following weeks the academy bore witness to even more bitter treatment from her… all a part of her act.

Her smiles were rare, and the few times she smiled it was only a slight twitch of the mouth, something she had picked up from the fire caster, and she even noticed how distant people seemed to her already.

Even her friends. Even her _best friend_.

She had to endure all of this alone, and add to that was the growing fear of Uno's coming to her class.

She was breaking down, simply said. She was never as strong as Natsume was. She was never as tainted, as stalwart, as steel-gutted.

Every night she'd cry, so that every morning she'd never have enough strength to do something as simple as grunt or smile. Her dreams were littered with bits of crimson and death and reminiscences of the past. Her brain was full to the brim with images of all that was and all that never could be. Her heart nearly imploded with the pressure of keeping up thousands of lies all at the same time and the idea that she was letting go of all that ever made sense to her…

These things grew even heavier for her, twenty-one days after her return.

One sunny afternoon after dismissal, three weeks later, Ruka, Hotaru and Koko suddenly decided to talk to her to find out what happened. It struck her as an omen that Natsume wasn't there.

That was another blow to the lungs, heart, brain, and… practically everything.

Gently touching his picture she relieved how she had treated him the past few weeks, inwardly praying that this may soon be over. Before they even knocked, however, she had already sensed their presence.

Through the thick door she heard the voice of the girl she loved the most.

She only sighed before hitching a gloomy aura around her and arranging her face into an emotionless state.

_Time for the next act._

* * *

He was only a witness to this event. He was just the audience, and with every move they made he committed it to memory.

They had been talking about this for the past two weeks and eventually, they ended up with confrontations first. Natsume never uttered a single word during their meetings, barely speaking to anybody, occasionally to Ruka, but never to others.

The inventor stepped forward; Hotaru drew the shorter straw. She was to go first, in the attempt to find out the truth from the brunette. "Mikan," he heard Hotaru's gentle, cold voice, as she rapped lightly on the door of Mikan's special star room.

He watched as it opened roughly to reveal a pissed-off girl, and he had to contain a wince at the sharp, biting tone she used on them.

Something about her voice gave her away, though, and the feeling of wanting his Alice back _now_ never washed over him as strongly as that moment. Somehow he wished he never lost his power, no matter how badly he wanted it to be gone back then.

"What?" she asked of the threesome standing outside her door; her hazel eyes, once so full of innocent warmth and purity, were flaring. "What is it?"

It was Ruka who answered. "Can we come in? We want to talk— to you."

"Well, why can't you just do it in class, then?" she asked mechanically, her voice carefully steered onto an emotionless tone.

"Because we want it in private," replied Ruka, with a maddeningly patient air.

For a moment she hesitated. There was definitely something out of place there…

She rolled her eyes and opened the door a little wider and went straight to her bed and sat down on it, staring mindlessly in space, completely ignoring them.

"I missed you. We missed you, Mikan."

She sneered and snorted in disbelief. "Right. And what do you expect me to do? Cry? Say sorry? I don't need the sympathy. Thanks but no thanks."

The bitterness… the adamant refusal of pleas to open her heart again…

_I did, Hotaru. I did, I swear I did…_

He did a double take—what was that?

_Ruka, I'm sorry I made you worry, I'm sorry I have to do this… Koko, you're not even saying anything… And where's Natsume?_

_Natsume…_

_God I've made such a mess._

His brows meshed into a confused V, but as he was at the farthest corner of the room closest to the door his sudden change went by unnoticed.

Good, because he was hearing a damn lot that certainly managed to show itself to his face.

Could this be—could _it_ be?

He—his powers…

He can't have just awakened, can he?

Like a bad radio signal getting understandable to him, so suddenly did every whim in Mikan's mind become clear as crystal to him, and gradually he began hearing thoughts of Ruka's and Hotaru's.

_I'm back_, he thought… _I can actually _hear_ them again!_

He could not believe it, not after what had happened.

He lost his power. He shut off, had trouble just after Mikan left, because everyone's minds were too miserable that every emotion seemed to be pouring into him. It drove him temporarily out of his mind, until he learned to shut it off, and for the last three years, it _has_ been off and he was never able to read minds again.

Until now, again, in that room, where she heard the Nullifier's unspoken words and secrets being spilled out to him, with Hotaru's strangely emotional mind track, and Ruka's confused, hurt one.

He simply continued to stare on.

"Mikan, what's wrong?" Ruka took one tentative step towards her.

"Don't —" she said venomously, "—come any closer."

"Mikan, we want to know what happened. You owe us an explanation."

At this she gave a smirk that he thought would have given Natsume a run for his money.

What he heard was "Save your bullshit for yourselves, you people, I don't owe you anything," but what he _heard_ in his mind was only one word, repeating itself like a mantra in her head. _Sorry, sorry, sorry…_

Then he heard _his_ thoughts.

_Fuck._

His eyes snapped to the windows, where he saw _him_ jump in from the tree close to her balcony.

"That's it."

The other three heads turned toward the window where Natsume Hyuuga's figure suddenly appeared. Hands in his pocket, Koko watched as he walked over to where Mikan was and stood right in front of her. He saw her mind suddenly go blank; she was too taken aback by the sudden materialization of the boy she didn't want to see that she was unable to speak, keeping her head bowed down and staring blankly on the carpeted floor.

_Hate me, I know you do_, he heard her think miserably after a few seconds.

It was like pulling a truck with thousands of rubber bands; his strength was leaving him, his head threatened to crack open, and he had to refuse all reflexes that urged him to crush his temples in his hands. Having an Alice newly awakened and yet experiencing such turbulence was nerve-racking and strength-sapping.

The tension was so strong, so volatile, that nobody seemed to dare move, and in his mind the thoughts of all four, so loud and emotional, were crashing against each other, smashing against the walls of his brain, echoing inside and giving him a headache too great to stand.

He almost didn't hear the words that escaped from Natsume's head.

"You come back, without bothering to offer anyone any sort of _fucking_ explanation, and you have enough nerve to curse Ruka? Curse Imai, your _best friend?_"

_And say you don't owe us any explanation?_

Natsume's voice was steel, but his heart was melted wax. Only now did he really grasp the concept that the fire caster's words were so different from his thoughts.

_What happened to you, Mikan?_

"What the fuck do you care, Hyuuga?"

His knees were giving way. The two strongest thoughts that traveled to his brain were heavier than the heaviest thing he has ever known.

_I missed you._

_Mikan…_

_I cared for you. __I love you. I still do._

_How could you?_

_I had to do this, I'm so, so sorry__…_

And then the flash of a face of someone he didn't know.

Ruka and Hotaru's minds were stuck to the scene they were witnessing, their minds rather blank.

Natsume let out a sarcastic, demonic laugh.

But he, the Mind Reader, knew that inside his heart dies a little every second he was facing her like this.

"I care, Sakura, because you are acting like such a monstrous bitch," he bit out cruelly. Ruka and Hotaru backed away from the scene, somehow thinking this was one the fire and the nullification were to deal with, just the two of them.

It hurt him to think he can't say anything to make this right, because he knew Mikan's _every _reason. Heard it in her every thought. Saw the face of Persona, and another whose looks alone very vaguely reminded him of the stench of death and the works of the devil himself.

_Bitch_, Mikan thought; he heard the wince in her head, and saw the way she bit her lip. _You called me a bitch._

These words seemed to have hit her like an arrow, and the pain she held was so much and it flowed right through to him; he actually put a hand to his chest to stop the whirling emotions from overwhelming him.

"Do you want to know what happened after you left?"

Everyone felt the room temperature go down.

She said nothing, but in her mind a war was ensuing, between her desire to know and the calling to not hear it for fear it would add more to the pain she was feeling.

He heard Natsume's words, loud and clear, but his mind even clearer, saying _you have no idea._

He answered anyway, despite Mikan's silence.

"Imai never left her headquarters. She shut herself up there for three years. Yome shut down his Alice. Shouda had her hair straightened up. Umenomiya lost her Alice to depression. Ogasawara cried for seven months. Ruka stopped coming to classes. The academy was in complete _stupor_ because of you."

_And me?_ he heard Natsume think, _Me, Mikan? I was shattered. Broken. Any other term to describe how desperate you left me would make no sense._

No one expected her to answer, but her eyes betrayed her. Even Ruka and Hotaru saw the fraught look in them.

More so did he, as he even heard her very thoughts like she said them out loud.

"And you?"

Those words_…_

That was his limit. He turned around, faced away from them, and whispered to Ruka and Hotaru that he'll be going out. Once outside he snapped the door shut and leaned against it, listening to their thoughts, his remaining capability to stay upright ebbing away with every throb of his heart, which only now did he notice was beating a bruise against his chest.

Every word, spoken and thought, caused him pain, but he didn't care_… he had to endure this._

"Me?" _Still care for me, please Mikan. Say you still care. _"You ask what happened to _me_? I never changed. I was always the same. Except what I thought to be my saving grace ended up to be the one thing that screwed my fucking life up more than ever."

The mantra played itself over and over again, only now it had a name stuck to it. _I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry, Natsume, I'm so sorry..._

"Who are you?" his voice now was much gentler, raw and naked with the emotions that have triumphantly staked claim on his self-control. It took all his strength not to scream and strangle her and kiss her and _hold_ her and crush her to his chest and breathe her in and _live_ again—Koko heard this all, felt this all, and he slid a little downwards, his body seizing up under the bulk of the things he was hearing and feeling minutes after he recovered his Alice.

Those three words were the first words Natsume let slip that actually _matched_ his train of thoughts.

"I don't even know you anymore, Sakura."

The sound of his voice saying her last name brought a terrible wave of anguish that drowned both him and the nullification, but he felt even worse at her unsaid reply.

_And it's exactly how it all should be._

He could barely retain himself, what with the severity of all the emotions and thoughts confined at that moment to the room he just left. Instinct was telling him to shut down—it was the same reflex action that brought about his power-off three years ago that was slowly being triggered by the avalanche of mingled pain and grief and irrevocable love and unspoken affections that was continuously being washed over him by the second.

It took all his remaining strength to grab the knob and stay standing and fight the urge to close his mind again.

"You were a waste of time, a waste of tears. In all senses, Sakura, you were a waste of every single thing."

It was the note of finality, and he heard footsteps and stepped away from the door. Hotaru, Ruka, and Natsume all emerged, and in the split second that the door was opened as he passed, he caught a glimpse of Mikan and her last thoughts that seemed to split his head in two with the agony squished in the seven letters of the one word that was all that remained.

_Natsume..._

* * *

The trip to the dining room was silent, and nobody yet knew that he could already hear their thoughts again. How she was able to trigger it he had no idea, but he was already resolved—he knew what he was supposed to do.

After the quiet dinner that the four of them had, he went straight to his room and thought hard before deciding on where to begin first. He knew all that he needed to know, knew where she was…

_Mikan._

He took his jacket from the chair beside the door and went out to the night to find her and finally understand what had happened…

It didn't take long. He found her at the river near the edge of the Northern Forest, with her legs held close to her chest, her head on her knees, sobbing. From what he hears of her thoughts, she'd been crying for seven straight hours since the encounter that afternoon.

Slowly he approached and stood beside her. For a heartbeat's second she froze and looked up, fear evident in her eyes and thoughts, but the moment her amber gaze met his, she knew.

_Koko..._

"Koko_…"_

The sound of his name from her lips brought him down to his knees, partly because of the weight of her stare, so desperately lonely.

He knelt down and hugged her as she cried endlessly on his shoulders. He held her tight and shut his eyes against the renewed bout of emotions and thoughts that poured into him like parched land hungry for water. She fisted his shirt clenched and unclenched her fists in his chest and her shakes were weak, but her innocence stayed true to her head.

He just let her cry, and when he spoke his voice was nothing more than a wispy sound, but she understood. "There's time for explaining later."

The oceans would have been put to shame by the tears that fell like stars glistening in the shallow light of the moon that shone on them both.

* * *

_I know, hate me if you must, it's fine with me._

_Thoughts? Angry? Gotta vent your frustrations about this chap? Oh, go on. I don't mind._

_~pV | Ash._


	5. Silence

**Ashy-note **I believe I've been far more active in this fic than any of the others. This isn't getting as much attention as _A Desire For Her_ or _The Echo Harp_ or _The Race of a Lifetime_, but honestly, this is the one story I love most, partly because it's so different from my usual fluffy writing style and partly because I can play around with this kind of plotline more and partly because this one is really Alice-centric, unlike the other three which are all AU.

Enjoy? Review? Err… Whatever. I want to thank those who reviewed _The Echo Harp_ and _A Desire For Her_, by the way. :D

Dedicated to Maria, Andrea, and Nana. (:

Dark, depressing chap ahead. Please, tell me what you think! I don't know if I'm any good at writing depressing stuff and I wanna know if it struck you. :D

-/-

**Five**  
S i l e n c e

* * *

There were moments when Koko didn't know what to think anymore.

Things changed. Of course they did, and he knew that most especially… but they never altered as drastically as when she left. He received the full blow, of course. He heard everyone's misery, saw flashes of her face every time someone dared mention her name. He was crushed by the volume of the emotions that poured into him along with everyone's musings—one of the things that made him realize that his Alice was steadily improving, growing…

However, at that one point of time, he wished his power waited for a few more years before maxing out, because it would be an understatement to say that those first few weeks after Mikan's departure were the worst in his life.

It was torture. It was like killing himself so, _so_ slowly… but he never thought seeing her so vulnerable and weeping helplessly in his arms that night would hurt so much more than what he'd experienced.

She had cried for hours straight and the most that he saw of her mind was static, like a television with bad reception. But despite that, he saw shafts of light where she only thought of what he knew was the single memory that stung the most.

_Natsume…_

He watched her quietly, innocently, saw her as she choked and spluttered, as she gasped for breath and tried to stem the running river of tears that spilled from her eyes like a water hose. It took some time before she could calm down, but finally she did.

She raised her head, which she buried in his chest, and lifted her eyes to meet his. They were finally dry. Those eyes probed his brown ones, and he raised an eyebrow in protest at the thoughts that crossed her mind.

That single shallow, quirky movement lightened her up. She smiled, and eventually her smile became an airy laugh. In his confusion, his eyebrows perked up even higher as her laughs became more pronounced, and he had no choice other than to join along. All of a sudden they were both laughing heartily; he was glad her mind was finally clearing up, being more and more relaxed.

Somehow he felt better, completely reassured that the Mikan he knew was back to normal.

Whilst she tried to sort out her thoughts, he watched her thoughtfully. After three years a lot has changed about her, and his eyes were sharper than they were before, so he saw every detail sharply.

He saw _everything_, the wrongs and the rights, the marks of lies and the signs of confusion, depression, the feeling of being _lost…_

He saw the heavy look on her face, saw the dark shadows underneath her eyes that meant hundreds of sleepless nights. There were tiny bruises on her collar bone to which his eyes narrowed dangerously, and her arms… the small, fragile limb bore whip marks and cuts that he was completely sure weren't there before, courtesy of the fire caster's strict monitoring of her health.

An overwhelming protective instinct took over him and his senses. It was unusual, but somehow he expected himself to react like that. Years and years of staying with Natsume could do that to you, especially if you were someone who saw everything he saw.

And somehow, at that exact moment, he felt like the fire caster himself. All those wounds on Mikan made him feel uneasy, scared, _unsure_… and irrationally angry—he felt like shutting down all the air that comes through the throats of all those who dared touch her, let alone _hurt_ her.

The sound of her mirth mingled with words broke off the train of dangerous thoughts.

"Okay," she blurted out between laughs, "okay, okay, okay, I get the point, yeah, you're honest, I know."

"What?" he asked disbelievingly. His tone was playful, mocking hurt, but his eyes, he knew, betrayed his amusement—he knew what she was thinking, after all. "You thought I was their _spy_?"

She nodded, and laughed again at the look of feigned incredulity and upset on Koko's face.

"I had to be sure, Ko-kun," she said after she had gotten over her fit of amusement, her face returning to its original seriousness, only a shadow of her smile lingering by the corners of her lips. "I can't let my guard down anymore, you know."

And suddenly the aura had changed from one of light, careless mirth to one of a heavy, staid conversation. Koko's smile disappeared as quickly as it came, and he suddenly grew somber, his eyebrows knitted as an indication of his earlier question.

Mikan sighed deeply and her head drooped. He watched as she fiddled with her thumbs, and when she looked up again, she had a painful look on her face.

"Before we get to that," she began, and then she chuckled over Koko's incensed face, "−and yes, Ko-kun, we'll get there—I just want to ask… what really happened? Natsume's−" she choked at the mention of his name, "−_explanation—_" another choke at the understatement of what he _really_ gave "—wasn't really clear. I didn't get it."

He saw the sadness in her thoughts.

He sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine, keep up the suspense, I get it," his voice was comical and Mikan laughed again. He let her bump her head against his chest, and her thoughts said _I'm serious_, so he took it more maturely. "So," he said, taking her hand; vaguely he thought of the chances that Natsume was watching them and his chances of living after that feat, "you want me to start from the beginning?"

She nodded and breathed out a small, scared "Yes."

"From the very start?"

"Uh-huh."

"As in the day you left?"

"Koko!" she said, slapping him playfully on the arm, "yes! I mean the start of all the start! The _startest_, if you will!"

He sniggered. "Mikan, there's no such word as 'startest,' you know."

She looked dumbstruck and rolled her eyes. "You forget you're talking to me, Koko. I haven't changed at all."

He smiled and ruffled up her hair. "Yeah, I can tell."

Hazel met sunshine-yellow. Koko's eyes were scrutinizing hers, asking if she could take the weight of the words he was about to unleash on her. He tried to warn her through the way he looked at her—that was how deeply rooted their friendship was.

Although he should have known she'd be stubborn as always. _I'm ready, Koko._

He sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you," then he began the story.

It went on for hours, the stories of each and every single effect she had on the academy after she left. He told her of how Hotaru went to isolate herself, how Ruka and Natsume fought so badly that they never spoke to each other afterwards, how Anna lost her Alice and was sent to Tasmania for serious rehabilitation, how Nonoko ended up in the Alice asylum south of Japan after she started creating ludicrous and highly-volatile explosives…

He told her everything, even though he knew she was better off not knowing. With every person she stuttered and her mind synapses broke, her emotions overwhelming her, and then he'd watch her cry for minutes before she recovered herself. It was hard on him, but he simply could not imagine how hard it was for her. But she had a right to know. She had to know the truth.

She was here, now, so everything would be on the mend…

After he told her everything, he turned to face her.

"It's your turn."

She hiccupped and nodded slowly, and then began _her_ end of the story.

She finished, and he suddenly wished he never knew.

* * *

Killing had never been her forte.

That night's work was supposed to be assassination and rescue. It had been planned for months, and the night's execution would be worth millions to the Academy. Of course, none of it went to them but naturally they were lapdogs, so there they were, inside a lavish building, killing off all the people they saw trying to get to their targets: a politician's daughter to be rescued, and her kidnapper to be murdered. Cut-throat were the orders. They weren't allowed to fail.

She hated it, and if it wasn't for the consequences, she would never have come.

She was pro-life, detested killing for no reason and wanted everyone to avoid it as much as possible. When she was on missions with Persona she'd insist on look-out duty and refused to be there when bloodshed happens. She took assassinations but only for those she believes rightfully deserving of such judgment. She always found herself in situations that were dangerous simply because she hesitated for one second. She hated seeing murder. She thought it was scary and immoral, and nothing could ever make her think killing was so easy.

But that changed when she met Uno. With Uno, killing seemed like an easy dance. Almost graceful, really, that sometimes it haunted her how easily he takes to ripping people's head and cutting through soft skins, as if he had no remorse left in him. He was so hollowed out, in fact, that she saw the beauty in what he does so naturally. It disgusted her to think she could actually think "killing" as beautiful, but she couldn't lie to herself because, as difficult as it may be to imagine, it was.

With striking clarity she watched as with glaring accuracy and precision he hit his target straight on and in one blow, without even employing his Alice. He bowed, arched his back, spun on his heels, twisted in midair… it was a dangerous fandango. His kicks could have been legwork; his punches could have been caresses to the face… they were gentle but packed with invincible power that any enemy who stood in his way, man or Alice, would most certainly be sent to the other side of life. It was amazing. She had to admit that Uno was one masterpiece, indeed, and that was saying something because she had seen Natsume at work, seen his lithe grace and uncanny strength—but Uno was so, so different…

Maybe it was because Uno actually _enjoyed_ what he was doing… maybe because he enjoyed the scent of blood, unlike Natsume who she knew would rather crawl over and die rather than kill and destroy. No matter what the answer is, Mikan Sakura admitted reluctantly that with Uno, killing is an art, and he is Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Picasso, and Santi in one.

She dodged a body that flew her way and blood splattered over her mask and her mouth. The stench made her stomach roll over and when she opened her mouth to speak to her companion who was leagues ahead of her, she tasted the rust and salt of blood and she spat hard on the floor, retching.

Uno doubled back and she felt hard hands take hold of a clump of her hair, lifting her head. She closed her eyes, but as if an invisible force had forced it open, she found herself staring at a blood-stained white mask.

"Little Kitty doesn't like the smell and taste of blood?" he cooed, a wicked twisting smile mocking her. She growled, but that was all she could do; Uno had used his Alice on her, she couldn't do anything at all.

With one hand on her head Uno lifted his other hand, covered with dark red liquid that spiraled all the way down to his elbows, and slowly, almost lovingly, wiped them all over Mikan's face. With all the indignity she had left she kept her eyes closed and tried not to reel at the smell that coated her visage, and when Uno had finally let her go, she used the fire Alice to drive away the blood from her face. She turned to Uno with a literally flaming head, as the fires licked away all traces of the blood that he had put on her like butter on bread.

Uno suddenly lost his indulgent smile and glared at her. "Get used to it, twit."

Anger flared white-hot inside her and a thick, rough growl escaped her closed lips. What wouldn't she give to burn this man completely into black crisps, or curse him into oblivion until he shrivels up and dies like the old, rotting fruit that he is…

She was about to attack when they heard scampering noises in the hallway they had left. Alarm heightened, people were coming at them from all sides of the hall. The bodies of the people Uno had killed lay scattered all over the floors, like rag dolls, and blood was splattered all over the pristine white walls of the organization they had just penetrated.

Uno was quiet, attentive, and she was afraid.

They had caused such a ruckus it wouldn't be difficult to find out their exact location within the building. Using and maximizing her senses she heard digging outside and along the walls, along with a sound that resembled that of a police siren no farther than a few hundred meters away. She was right: Bombs were being placed all over the building and the police were on its way when she looked out the window. Sensing the dangers and without another word, she grabbed Uno and teleported back to the Academy. It had been done without any thoughts, at all.

She didn't think of the consequences; they had abandoned their mission in exchange for personal security. That was a serious breach of the code, especially given the magnitude of the mission they were in. Being a girl, a woman, surely was a disadvantage on her part, because it meant life-preservation. If she were a man she would have gone on with the mission instead, but given that she wasn't she went with her instincts… and that part was deadly.

When they were safe inside Academy grounds, he lifted his hand and slapped it heavily across her cheeks.

"You coward," he said in no more than a whisper. His voice was soft but the lingering menace in his tone told her otherwise. "I could not believe little Kitty would flee… such a coward."

When she looked at him he was staring at her like some curious object, and then she felt the pain surge through her body. She cried out in shock but kept her mouth shut for the remaining hours she spent inside the torture chamber. This was Uno's home, his element, his real forte. Other than the killing, Uno was particularly good at something more terrifying than death—torture.

He was, after all, the infamous Torture Alice. The Alice that could torture even without laying a finger on you. Uno was telekinetic and telepathic and he had a prophetic eye, but this was his real dangerous ability, and she was suffering its wrath.

It went on for hours. Even hard training and harsh exercises could never really endure the power that Uno had. Truth be told he was a lot stronger than Persona, but if there was any disadvantage to this Alice, it was that it rebounded on its wielder as well, that after quite some time Uno let her go and she was left to crawl back into her dormitory. She had no more strength left for teleportation.

"Run along now, Missy," Uno told her before he slammed the door closed. "Run along, coward. That is, if you still could."

He had a frenzied sort of look on his face, an expression of mingled pain and anger and delusional happiness, that had disappeared once the steel doors were closed. The metal building then vanished after him, and she was left alone in the middle of Academy grounds, coated in bruises and wounds and blood—her own or not, she couldn't tell.

Her body was still shaking from the shocks and the pain that she had to endure for three hours, but she felt relieved at the smell of fresh air. She looked around and realized that she stood at the edge of the eastern forest. Clutching a tree trunk for support, she stared ahead of her. The dormitory was still miles away.

She tried to take one step but she fell face-down on the earthen floor. _So I really do have to crawl back to the dorms? _She thought dryly. She started crawling, crying at the same time, ignoring the shots of hurt that traveled all over her body, trying not to think of the steady flow of warm blood from her head and her hundreds of open wounds. It hurt so much that she flinched at the smallest movements_…_

Something rustled behind her and for a moment she froze, fearful. Has Uno decided it wasn't enough? Was he chasing her for more hours of pain?

Immediate she shot to her feet and started running. The wind pricked her skin and her wounds all but screamed in protest. Her heart was beating but barely enough to sustain her, and after no more than twenty seconds she collapsed hard on the grassy floor, skidding a few feet more and grazing her skin further.

Her pursuer, whoever he was, stopped. It was only a cat, maybe, she thought, a little relieved, and she breathed out. The effect of her sudden exertion throbbed inside her that it took all her remaining strength not to cry out to the darkness for help and alarm the entire academy.

Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around her and picked her up. She squirmed and fought until she vaguely heard a frantic voice saying, "It's okay, Mikan, it's okay, I'm here, it's me, you're fine now, don't worry."

She mumbled and lifted her hand, another jerk causing one of her wounds to open. "_It—hurts…_" she tried to say, but her voice was so rash, so hoarse, that all she heard was gibberish.

The pained voice spoke again, but more to himself than to her. She kept her eyes closed, trying futilely to stem the pain. "What have they done to you?"

The arms holding her cradled her to the person's chest, and with arresting familiarity she breathed in a scent that shook the torpor out of her. The tears slipped out faster, wetter, hotter… and yet all she heard was a boy's voice, shushing her, lulling her to sleep, telling her it was okay…

She felt him hold her closer, felt him kiss her forehead, and then they were speeding away, the wind tearing through her body, this time soothing the burning feeling in her wounds. With her ears against his chest she heard him keep saying her name, over and over again, like a prayer… saying "Please be okay, please be okay, don't you dare die, don't you _dare_"…

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe he was here, he was here, for her, just like always…

Just like ever since.

She didn't know what, but she knows God knows she must have done something right to deserve this.

When her eyes drifted to a close she took one glance at the face of the one carrying her swiftly as if he was the wind. His bright red eyes and his pained, determined face were the last she saw before she gasped. She breathed in, then her heart gave once last feeble thump before it stopped. Her body felt heavy, then relaxed, and all pain slowly went away.

Everything was so, so quiet…_  
_


	6. I: Captured

**Ashy-note** Careful with reading, guys. This chapter's a flashback, I hope you don't get confused, and if you do, wait for the next chapters to clear it all up.

Chapters with Roman Numerals mean it's a flashback from three years ago, just to help you out.

I'm sorry if my writing is a bit distraught or rushed or whatever - I'm going through quite a lot, having to deal with something hard.

_Maria, I will how your name would be the first thing that appears in my Inbox, along with the words [FF Review Alert: Half Blind]._

-:|:-

**Six  
**I  
_C a p t u r e d_

* * *

The party was great, brilliant. Trust Hotaru and Natsume to make everything so extravagant yet elegant at the same time. She could still hear the music when Yuu and Koko played the cello and the violin together, she could still taste the sweet birthday cake that Anna made for her…

Nonoko's gift of a love potion was somehow lost, but it kind of struck her as odd that Sumire has somehow managed to coax the boy she liked into dancing with her…

But nonetheless, the party was as perfect as it could have gotten.

Maybe that's why she couldn't sleep… maybe she's still too hung over from the euphoria of the surprise birthday party that they held for her. She still felt the strange energy accumulated at her feet and her body twitched every now and then, so obviously she wasn't ready for sleep.

Through the small ray of moonlight that filtered through the light, translucent draping of her room, she saw cascading petals of Sakura and suddenly she wanted to have a walk out.

_It looks nice outside_…

Quietly she slipped out of her bed, taking care not wake up the gang who were all sleeping soundly on her elephant-sized bed (a prize from Jinno after a bet, in which she claimed she'll perfect the Math exams, and miraculously, she did—of course, with the help of a few sleepless nights that involved very, _very_ strict Natsume and Hotaru tutorials) and like a mouse, she flew.

It struck her as odd that Natsume didn't even stir when she clambered down the mattress when he was always so protective of her. Usually when they slept together and she had to get away in the middle of the night, he'd wake up and immediately grab hold of her waist and then she'd have to gently pry his fingers and wake him up to tell him she needed to go to the restroom. It takes minutes more to convince him to let her go.

_Maybe he's just so, so tired after all their preparations._

Images of the huge party she had flashed through her mind and she smiled. _Yes, of course he's tired._

She activated an Alice she copied from a fellow Special Abilities, one that enabled her to walk through walls, and she can't help but think that in sneaking out, the Alice was probably very useful. She was out of the dormitory in no time.

She savored and reveled at the feeling of the cold January wind hitting her face and immediately, her squirming insides cooled down and euphoria was replaced by a soothing sensation close to the purest form of ecstasy. Her light satin nightgown fluttered in rhyme with the strong bursts of wind and she wandered down Sakura lane, without a particular destination in mind, letting only her feet guide her as she mindlessly savored the midnight air of Alice Academy.

She recounted the occurrences that had happened that night. They had surprised her with a birthday party, which was such a feat because she always managed to get everyone to spill the beans about any surprise, but then she wasn't particularly surprised because after all, it was Hotaru and Natsume who had organized the event. She was so sure those two had threatened everyone with dangerous gadgets of fire.

She reminisced about the sixteen dances, and how Natsume took her from Yuu's hands to share with her the last dance. It was so cliché, she thought.

"I always knew you were such a sappy git inside," she had told him when he took her hand and a slow, romantic piece began to play. He had given her a huge smile then, and then he simply told her to shut up and not ruin the moment as her loud mouth always did. She recalled how she made to protest, but she also recalled how Natsume had silenced her with a kiss.

They shared four dances, and it was the longest, most romantic (and kind of sappy) moment she had ever had.

After the _programme_ came the feast, and boy it was a feast to Mikan Sakura. All kinds of her favorite food were there! Chicken, pork, meat, Anna's blueberry cookies, a humongous dancing cake, and the best part of all which was the Howalon stand which Hotaru seemed to have rented from Central Town.

It was indeed a night to remember, and she smiled at the thought of it. She felt like the luckiest person on Earth a few hours ago. She was a little sad that her Grandpa didn't make it, but she knew he was watching him from above.

A sudden breaking twig snapped her out of her reverie and to her surprise she found herself wandering so close to the edge of the Northern Forest. A few more steps and she might have gone straight inside.

_Stupid, stupid Mikan_, she thought, slapping her forehead gently to wake her up.

She noticed how everything seemed stony-silent. And the kind of silence that engulfed this part of the Academy wasn't inviting…

Fear began to stab at her insides. The cold wind was no longer welcome to her skin, it became nippy and the frost started to bite at the exposed flesh that she had. Her breathing started to drag, each inhale felt heavier and each exhale came out faster than usual…

She turned around, but another rustling sound from behind her shut her up and stopped her in her tracks.

The rustling was getting louder and louder…

She closed her eyes and tried to calm down her raging heartbeat. It was so loud she wouldn't be surprised if creatures around her could hear it as well.

The rustles had become footsteps and she was frozen to the spot. She wasn't moving and she was controlling her breathing, but her mind was working overdrive, putting everything into perspective, rationalizing every possible course of action she could take at the moment. It was something she picked up from Natsume for which she was thankful, because she couldn't help but feel cornered.

Slowly, pieces began to fall together. It was pointless to hide, her nightgown practically glimmered in the shallow moonlight, and whoever it was that was coming up from behind her must have followed her so whoever that person was he knew she was there. She could try shouting but that would be stupid, she was meters away from the dormitory and all her scream would probably register as nothing more than Piyo's tantrum. She could run, but at the rate in which her pursuer was closing in on her, running can't do much.

All her options were slowly canceled out, one by one, until she decided only one thing she could do— there was no way out of it than in. She would have to face the person, whoever he was.

She recalled Natsume's words echoing in her head when she asked him how he managed to stay alive during missions.

"_Don't fret, don't lose your head. It's the only thing that could help you when you're hunted."_

_Fine, then_, she thought, curbing her fingers to form a fist. _Keep your head, fight back, don't lose focus… kick him in the groin, jab at the base of throat to constrict breathing and throw dust in his eyes…_

While she was formulating the actions she was to take she noticed one ominous thing: The rustling had stopped.

Which meant either her pursuer had left or was standing directly behind her—

—Then a hand grabbed her shoulders and with surprising speed and agility she turned around and was about to jab a finger at the base of the throat only to have her action blocked by stronger arms which immediately grabbed hold of her waist and drew her into a warm, worried embrace. She heard his heart speed up when she fell gratefully into the clinch.

When she found herself free of his arms, she lifted her eyes and frightened hazel met worried scarlet. Natsume's eyes softened at the look of sheer terror in her eyes, but after a moment's glance his eyes turned to glowing cold jewels.

"_What_—" he began, his hold on her arm tightening in suppressed anger, "—were you _thinking_, _running out like that_?"

Mikan only shook her head, and then the panic that had failed to show itself minutes ago suddenly flared out of her and she collapsed into a tremor of tears.

"I_-I'm_… _sorry_… _didn't_… _mean_ to_…_ _go_ _out_… _wanted_… _fresh_ _air_…" she sobbed on Natsume's shoulder when the latter had kneeled to catch her as she fell into distress. "…_'M so sorry… was so scared_…"

"Shh, it's fine, you're okay now, stop crying," Natsume kept telling her over and over again, brushing through her hair.

She gasped and breathed for air, and when she opened her eyes Natsume dissolved into nothing and she found herself trapped by thick, moving branches of the tree to which she stood close to a while ago.

Her brain fired up in an instant. It was an illusion…

_An incredibly strong illusion that can do actual real feeling… an illusion employing the senses…_

Bile rose up to her throat and her heart dropped to her feet when she felt a tight squeeze around her midriff. The branches were gluing her to its trunk, she could feel the back of her head melding against the hard bark, could feel cuts beginning to break through her skin—it hurt. She couldn't scream because the branches were pressed against her diaphragm—she could barely breathe! One breath hurt too much, another felt like death—

_All cold…_

Everything felt so cold in her toes…

She was losing feeling; blood wasn't getting around fast enough and any moment now her internal organs could rupture of bleed or worse, implode.

She had so _little_ time—

—She had to _do _something, and with that sudden thought she opened wide her hazel eyes and studied her surroundings, trying — despite her predicament — to keep her cool and do as Natsume told her. She stuck them all to memory.

There were shadows around her, moving, as if dancing, through the stalwart darkness of the night. The moon hid behind the clouds, the air was cold and dry and there was someone in front of her, smiling…

A flash of brightest royal blue…

A quick stripe of crimson…

The crimson reminded her of Natsume—

—She wanted to call out to him but thought better of it: calling his name would only involve him in this danger.

_No. I'm dying alone._

She was dying…

Somehow she was reconciled with the idea…

_I'm dying…_

—But she spoke too soon.

She was dying—or so she thought, because right after the idea crossed her mind, she felt the trunk to which she was pinned to slowly turn to jelly—until suddenly, she felt herself melting into the insides of the tree trunk.

She had no idea what was happening and in an instant, she screamed, only to find that she had no voice left in her.

Darkness was closing in; she could here the eerie sounds of tree flesh tearing apart, could smell the earthen scent of water and soil—

—And then everything was so dark. The last she could remember was falling asleep amidst all the fear.

* * *

She felt something crawl over her, slowly, languidly… it nipped at her nose, then stepped over her face… it was waking her up.

And wake up she most certainly did, as she opened her hazel orbs for the first time, alongside a migraine that felt like it wanted to slice her head open in half.

She wished she had never opened her eyes—what met them was a living nightmare, a gruesome image she knew was bound to be reflected in her mind's eyes for the rest of her life.

Because when Mikan Sakura woke up, her life changed.

She woke up, and the first thing she saw was the pile of human corpses in the corner of the blackened chamber where she was imprisoned.

She woke up, and the first thing that came out her mouth was an ear-splitting scream.

She woke up, and the first things that came to her mind were the fact that she was captured, and the fact that Natsume's face flashed clearly before her eyes once more—that tearing feeling of longing, fear, and relief for his safety flooded her senses, only to be numbed once again.

She woke up, and the first thing she did was cry—

—Until she saw that her tears were liquid opals.

They were blood.

* * *

_A little morbid, forgive me, but these details are essential__. There is one thing that keeps cropping up in my chapters, something most of you may consider useless. It's become patterned, actually, to Mikan's endeavors; any guesses on what it is? (:_

_~Ash._


	7. Secrets

**Ashy-note** I could only wish…

_Forgive me for the short chapter. I'm a little depressed, but I wanted to and I had to write this chapter._

_This one is dedicated to the one I consider my sister and best friend and definitely my favorite author, __**This Pen is Red**__. I could never forgive myself if for just one moment I forget to fight for you, pray for you, and wish you were awake. There's a big chance you might not be able to read this anymore, or at least that's what they say, but just like Hotaru in this chapter I still want you to know that everything isn't planned as seamlessly as we all think it to be. Miracles happen. And I believe that if there was ever a person who deserves one of those rare miracles, it would have to be you._

_You're my Mikan, Maria. And I'm your Hotaru. Always remember that._

_I love you and I will be waiting for your usual review to this chapter. I refuse to think it will never come. Because it will, right? _

_Yes. Of course it will. It _should_._

-/-

**Seven  
**S e c r e t s

Natsume Hyuuga was never a man of words. He was a man of principle, of intellect, of integrity and dignity and of course, he was a man of ginormous pride, but somehow that part she had always learned to live with. His comebacks are quick and sharp and none could quite disagree with him with the kind of passion only Mikan Sakura had… but then again, truth be told, nobody _but_ Mikan Sakura could ever get away with disagreeing with Natsume Hyuuga in the first place. Be it because of fluff puffs or underwear or the never-ending list of possible reasons why they argue, he almost always won. Between her and him it was hard to tell who dominates over whom, but Anna always used to say it was fair game between the two. She has her under him, but he still has her under him, too, and it was just so well-balanced that every one felt jealous of the kind of love they had.

But right now, Hotaru Imai knew that the Academy all thought the same thing: that an all-too-perfect love like theirs definitely had its consequences.

Her heart clinched a little every time she watches him stare at her for hours on end, just doing nothing but stare and stare and stare… Much as Natsume Hyuuga barely spoke a word, his crimson gaze always let the truth slip. If anything, his eyes betrayed the cool façade he usually parades with every day, and even though is defies his idea of who he is, ironically it _made _him who he now was. And right now, those scarlet irises were defeated, lost, almost consumed by the unspoken grief that she was sure rattled the fire caster.

She felt a presence but she didn't move from her position by the doorway where she stood just peeking through the glass window of the door.

She watched with a heavy heart as Natsume once more took Mikan's unmoving hands in his grip and kissed them tenderly, almost pleadingly…

Hotaru's heavy heart broke yet again.

"How is she?"

"She's stable," she answered briefly. Not that she was being disrespectful or purposefully stoic… she just didn't have enough words in her anymore, when she didn't even have much to begin with.

"Oh. Good."

She didn't bother turning around to face the person who spoke. She felt him move around to stand beside her and in silence they just, stood side by side, watching.

Only after a few minutes did she turn to speak directly to Yuu.

"Any theories?"

Yuu gave her a cursory glance of mingled affection and worry before saying, "None that makes perfect sense. They're only really just that—theories."

"And Natsume? Have you tried scouring his mind?" She fixed him a stony, demanding glare.

Yuu shifted uneasily, glancing at his feet in apprehension. "Well… Koko tried yesterday, but Natsume realized the intrusion and he gave Koko a second-degree burn."

She clicked her tongue, disappointed and a little annoyed at the lack of progress their investigation was making. She paid no heed to the fact that one of her closest friends got hurt. It was times like these that Hotaru actually displayed her selfish but selfless side.

Yuu fidgeted beside her but she only rubbed her temples.

"With brains like his, and an extensive knowledge of the workings of the Academy, I'm pretty sure he's got thousands of theories in his mind," Hotaru mumbled, more to herself than to anybody, her feet beginning to pace unconsciously, as they always did when she immersed herself in deep thoughts. "_Why_ isn't Hyuuga telling us?"

"Hotaru, he's probably still trying to sort things out. After all, it was he who found Mikan in that clearing, we can't blame him for not speaking much at all," Yuu tried to reason out patiently, following her pacing with his eyes. Somehow part of him agreed with Hotaru…

There had to be some sort of reason why Natsume wasn't confiding to them his thoughts.

Hotaru stopped pacing and swayed dangerously right where she stood. He was almost about to catch her when Ruka's arms suddenly came out of nowhere and wound their way around her waist and lifted her up.

"Imai," Ruka said feverishly, brushing away strands of hair from her face, "Imai, are you fine?"

His hands continued to caress Hotaru's face, but seconds later it was slapped away.

Hotaru groggily got up to stand on her own and proceeded to walk away from them, headed back to the dorms, saying loudly as she did so, "Nogi the next time you touch me like that, I'll sue you for sexual harassment. And Yuu, add some extra effort in finding out what goes on in that deluded fireboy's mind. I'll go get some rest for a while."

She rounded to the right and disappeared, leaving Yuu alone outside the room; Ruka had gone in right after cursing Hotaru a little and saying "Hi" to Yuu.

Some extra effort. He wondered where the _heck_ he was going to find that.

For the past two weeks the gang had all done their very best efforts of wheedle out some sliver of information from Natsume since the incident with Mikan. They had all done the best they could. Nonoko had created a truth potion; Anna baked a cake to soften him into speaking; Ruka had tried to use his minimal Animal Pheromones, even Narumi was somehow dragged along; Hotaru used her Mind Projection invention; he, Yuu, tried get him to speak using an illusion; and when all hope had gone, they resorted to the one thing they didn't want to do in the first place—read his mind—but _that _didn't even work.

Natsume had thrown out all their attempts, which somehow proved one thing: he was on his highest guard. For what reason, none of them knew.

He refused to drink or eat anything they gave him. He barely spoke to Ruka and scared Narumi away with one glare. He broke Hotaru's invention by burning it to dust. He threw off Yuu's attempts at planting images in his mind (something only someone with massive brain power could do). And he burned Koko violently when he realized the intrusion.

They had given up on getting something out of Natsume after Koko, but Yuu never stopped thinking. Day and night he took to retracing the steps that had led them here in the first place, trying to weed out possibilities, searching for even the tiniest hint of a clue that would lead them to a small, plausible answer, but just like always, he found none. But he never stopped.

They were his _friends_, and he was their President. Either way he held a strong sense of responsibility to help them, to get this over with, he knew that, but somehow _that_ was proving to be really difficult — it still burned in the back of his head, the scene of the bloody Mikan in Natsume's arms.

His Triple-Star brain was all riled up into knots.

How could this all have happened?

He thought everything had ended when Mikan left three years ago. It had hurt him, it had hurt everyone, but somehow, no matter how terrible it might have sounded, he was grateful for Mikan's departure, thinking it was for the best, that it would bring peace back, because the rational part of him can't help but think all the _serious_ chaos began only when she had first arrived nearly nine years ago. Now, however, he knew just how wrong he was, because apparently everything only _began_ that night.

He himself couldn't believe it.

First the Alice War, then this. First Natsume, and now, Mikan.

What was fate aiming at? Why were people suddenly keeping all these secrets? Where was this game headed for, other than the obvious downfall of one the two sides playing it? More to the point, _who_ was playing the other side in the first place?

It drove him close to losing his wits.

Suddenly, the door to Mikan's room opened and Yuu blinked once, twice, before clearly focusing on Natsume's dark gaze.

"Na-Natsume?" Yuu stuttered. Natsume gave him a curt nod.

Turning his back on Yuu, he walked forward to the exit, then said, "We need to talk."


End file.
